


Immovable Unspeakable meets Irresistible Hit Wizard

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-05
Updated: 2009-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:36:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1939566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are just average, ordinary wizards working in dull positions at the Ministry and leading average, ordinary lives.  Or, at least, that's what they'd like everyone -- including each other -- to believe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Immovable Unspeakable meets Irresistible Hit Wizard

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an irresistible prompt from [](http://orpheus-samhain.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://orpheus-samhain.dreamwidth.org/)**orpheus_samhain** , who requested Draco as a MoM appointed hitman, very sikrit, Minister wouldn't like the public to know that from time to time he orders a murder; Harry is an Unspeakable. Somehow their paths cross during one of Draco's assignments, that so happens to be one of Harry's, only he's expected to achieve the opposite effect. If they know each other outside their work is a bonus. Requested additions: a knife, hood, night, champagne. Orpheus, I hope this is what you imagined.

  
**Title:** Immovable Unspeakable meets Irresistible Hit Wizard  
 **Author:** [](http://alisanne.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**alisanne**](http://alisanne.dreamwidth.org/)  
 **Challenge:** Written for the 2009 [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=hd_career_fair)[**hd_career_fair**](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=hd_career_fair).  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Pairing(s):** Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Percy Weasley/Hermione Granger (implied), Blaise Zabini/Luna Lovegood (implied)  
 **Summary:** Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are just average, ordinary wizards working in dull positions at the Ministry and leading average, ordinary lives. Or, at least, that's what they'd like everyone -- including each other -- to believe.  
 **Warnings:** AU  
 **Word Count:** ~10,800  
 **Author's Notes:** Inspired by an irresistible prompt from [](http://orpheus-samhain.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://orpheus-samhain.dreamwidth.org/)**orpheus_samhain** , who requested Draco as a MoM appointed hitman, very sikrit, Minister wouldn't like the public to know that from time to time he orders a murder; Harry is an Unspeakable. Somehow their paths cross during one of Draco's assignments, that so happens to be one of Harry's, only he's expected to achieve the opposite effect. If they know each other outside their work is a bonus. Requested additions: a knife, hood, night, champagne. Orpheus, I hope this is what you imagined.  
Thank you to the [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=hd_career_fair)[**hd_career_fair**](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=hd_career_fair) mods for hosting this fest and to [](http://eeyore9990.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**eeyore9990**](http://eeyore9990.dreamwidth.org/) and [](http://sevfan.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**sevfan**](http://sevfan.dreamwidth.org/), without whom this story would have made much less sense.  
Recognizable content belongs to JKR, with some plot elements borrowed from the hilarious movie, [Mr and Mrs Smith](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0356910/).

~*~

Immovable Unspeakable meets Irresistible Hit Wizard

~*~

The night things began to change started out ordinarily enough. “Mother would like us to be punctual this evening,” Draco said as he finished attaching his cufflinks. “For a change.”

Harry nodded. “I’m almost done with this report,” he said absently. He winced as his robes hit him in the head. “Ow! What did you do that for?”

“We have fifteen minutes,” Draco drawled, “ten of which you will waste in an attempt to get your hair to behave before you decide it’s hopeless.”

Raising a hand, Harry patted his head. “It’s not hopeless,” he argued. “It just takes some effort.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Uh huh. Well, we don’t have time for you to mess about with it tonight, so get dressed and let’s go. If we hurry, we can actually arrive early.”

“What, and shock your mother even more?” Harry joked, getting to his feet. “Sometimes I think she relishes telling me all the things I do wrong. If I’m punctual, what will she have to pick on me about?”

“I’m sure she can find something,” Draco replied, voice dry. “Now come on. We’re down to twelve minutes.”

They were two minutes early, and as Bitsy, the Malfoy house-elf, announced their arrival and ushered them in, Harry leaned close to Draco to whisper, “Keep an eye on your mother. The shock may kill her.”

Draco snorted just in time for Narcissa to hear him, earning himself a thorough scolding. Harry smirked at him from behind her, but he didn’t escape her wrath either. “And couldn’t you have at least combed your hair, Harry?” she griped before stalking away.

“Hey, at least I was early!” he muttered after she had left.

Draco simply rolled his eyes.

The dinner party itself was a reception for Teddy and Victoire; Narcissa had taken a big interest in her nephew since the end of the war and Andromeda had allowed it, realising that it was probably for the best that Teddy know his family. That didn’t mean the affair wasn’t uncomfortable, though.

Many of the Weasleys were there, including Molly and Arthur, Ginny and Dean. Harry sighed. He still couldn’t look at her without some measure of guilt. Not that she blamed him for being gay and falling for Draco, or so she said. Still, there was just something about the way she always looked at him, as if she thought he would ‘come to his senses’ one day. He made a beeline for Hermione.

“So how are things with you two?” she asked, taking a sip of her champagne. “I haven’t seen you and Draco out together lately.”

“We both have time-consuming jobs, I guess,” he said carefully. “You know how it is.”

She nodded. “I do, indeed.” They shared a look.

“Why do I always find you two muttering in a corner?” Draco asked, walking up. “Don’t you get enough of each other at work? You do work together, right?”

“We don’t talk a lot at work,” Hermione said, avoiding Harry’s eyes.

“Fine, fine.” Draco waved his hand. “All you Ministry types are all so mysterious.”

“You’re in the Ministry, too. And you don’t talk much about your job either,” Harry countered.

“Accounting?” Draco raised an eyebrow. “You want me to regale you with tales of me saving my department with my numbers prowess?” He leaned close. “Because I’m happy to, just say the word.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Harry said, shaking his head.

Draco chuckled. “I thought not. Anyway, Mother would like us all in the dining room now. Dinner is about to be served.”

Several round tables, each seating about six people, had been set up around the room. Harry and Draco sat with Hermione, Percy, Luna, and Blaise.

“Did I hear you’re in the Accounting Department, Draco?” Percy asked as they sat down and the first course began appearing in front of them.

Draco nodded. “Not nearly as exciting as working in MLE like your wife and Harry,” he said. “But it’s a living.”

“Really?” Luna, next to Blaise, piped up. “You both have pretty exciting auras, actually. Lot of Wrackspurts hovering about.”

“Wrackspurts?” Draco blinked. “Right. Well, be that as it may, my life is pretty boring.”

Blaise smirked. “I’m surprised, Draco. If anyone had asked me years ago, I would have predicted that your life with Potter would be explosive and exciting, but never boring.”

Draco shrugged, the movement elegant. “What can I say, Blaise?” he asked, spreading his hands. “I guess I just grew up.”

Harry hid a smile at the incredulous look that crossed Blaise’s face. “How about you and Luna?” he asked. “I hear you’re cataloguing magical animals in South America?”

And so, as the conversation progressed and the wine flowed, everyone relaxed. When dessert was served, they got up and began to circulate about the house. Harry, sipping his wine, wandered out towards one of the balconies for some cool air.

“Are you all right?” Hermione asked softly, coming up behind him.

Harry smiled. “I’m fine. It’s just--” He paused before continuing. “What Blaise said struck me. Do you really think Draco and I have become boring?”

She smiled. “I think that Draco is right. When you’re young everything is very passionate and urgent. We’re all older now, though. Life is bound to be a lot more sedate, at least home life.”

“And _again_ I find you two together,” Draco drawled. “If I didn’t know Harry as well as I do, I would be suspicious.”

Hermione shook her head. “I’ll just be going,” she said, brushing past Draco. “Percy doesn’t do well when he drinks too much champagne; gives him a headache.”

“Why _aren’t_ you suspicious?” Harry asked once Hermione was gone.

“What?” Draco’s eyes glittered silver in the moonlight. “Are you saying I should be?”

“No, I’m saying--” Harry shook his head. “What’s happened to us, Draco?”

“What do you mean?” Draco sipped his port and looked out over the moonlit garden.

“I mean, we used to be passionate, we used to fight and then make up. God how I loved making up, the sex was...” Harry’s voice went husky for a moment. “The sex used to be earth shattering, do you remember?”

“I remember,” Draco whispered back. “It was.”

“So what happened?” Harry asked, bewildered. “I still love you, so why aren’t we all over each other like we used to be?”

“Because we grew up?” Draco sighed, placing a hand on Harry’s arm. “These things happen, Harry. It’s not a tragedy, it’s just...life. Things change.”

Harry bit his lip. “I suppose.”

Draco cleared his throat. “Come on, let’s go in.”

“Give me a minute, yeah?”

Draco shot a piercing look at him before nodding and walking inside. Leaning over the balustrade, Harry looked up at the night sky. A shooting star made him smile, and feeling a tad foolish, he muttered, “I wish our life was the way I thought it would be, full of excitement and passion.”

A sudden cool wind made him shiver, and backing away, Harry brushed off his foolish thoughts, walking back into the dinner party. Finding Draco, they walked over congratulate Teddy and Victoire before leaving.

“See you tomorrow,” Hermione whispered as she hugged him goodbye. “Remember, we’ve a new assignment. And it’s big one.”

Harry smiled. At least he knew that work had the possibility to be sort of exciting.

~*~

“So how did we find out about this assassination attempt?” Harry asked, inspecting the paperwork.

“You know I can’t tell you,” Hermione scolded. “There’s a reason we’re called Unspeakables, Harry.”

“Fine, then what _can_ you tell me?”

“William Spungen is a criminal, but apparently he knows enough about the new syndicate trying to distribute so-called ‘magic amulets’ to Muggles and Squibs to be a person of interest in the case. We’ve tried Legilimency, but he’s immune somehow. For the moment, he’s under Auror protection until the Wizengamot trial, after which he’s agreed to tell us what he knows. They have him in a safe house, but word has it that the Minister wants some extra protections. Apparently Spungen’s been targeted from high up in the criminal syndicate.”

“I am getting too old to be out in the field like this,” Harry grumbled.

“At least you don’t have to do this at night,” Hermione reminded him. “All you have to do is go now and set up the extra protective wards. They want the highest security possible.”

“All right.” Harry rolled up the parchment with information pertinent to the case and slipped it into his robes. “Do you have a Portkey for me?”

Hermione handed him a handkerchief. “There it is. It activates in ten minutes. Get in, get out. Try not to let the Aurors know you’re there. They’re more alert if they don’t know they have extra protections.”

Harry nodded. “See you later.”

The Portkey took him to the edge of an estate; Harry could see the house in the distance. Narrowing his eyes, he checked for wards, pleased to see basic ones were up at least. Casting Hermione’s special undetectable Imperturbable Charm on himself, he moved forward, being careful to mask even his aura. He slid through the wards with nary a ripple and reached the house about five minutes later.

Withdrawing his wand, he had just raised it to begin casting the extra protections when he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. A figure, clad all in black, was slipping through the trees. Apparently this person was as good as Harry at moving through standard Auror wards. _Maybe better,_ he thought as he watched. Had the Department of Mysteries sent another Unspeakable?

The figure crouched low and suddenly was floating up to a window. _Not another Unspeakable, then._ That wasn’t a technique he was familiar with!

The person, whose face was hidden beneath a concealing hood, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at the window. After a moment, the window opened.

“Shit,” Harry muttered. This was probably the bloody assassin! He hesitated. He wasn’t supposed to interfere with Auror affairs but surely he shouldn’t just stand by and watch a murder?

Mind made up, Harry moved stealthily towards the window. Just as the would-be assassin began to slip inside, Harry cast a Stunner.

The assassin must have sensed something because he moved aside just before the hex hit him and stared straight at Harry’s position. Harry barely managed to move before the hex was returned.

Somehow the killer appeared to know Harry’s position despite his usually impenetrable Imperturbable Charm. _How is he following my movements?_

Shooting off a rather desperate Stunner, Harry finally managed to get the assassin out of the window and down onto the ground. He crouched low and Harry stayed still, calming his breathing. _Fuck, he could kill me and then go and kill Spungen._

Raising his wand, Harry pointed it at the Auror wards and blasted them, tripping them. From inside the safe house he could hear footsteps.

The assassin evidently did, too. Getting to his feet, he glanced towards the house as if weighing his options.

Harry only just managed to cast an Apparation Tracer before his quarry disappeared. Closing his eyes, Harry tried to follow, cursing as he was blocked. Wherever the assassin had gone, it was Unplottable, and as the Aurors appeared around the corner, Harry only just managed to Disapparate with a crack.

~*~

“Sloppy!” Hermione scolded, even as she raised her head from the Pensieve. “How did he know where you were?”

“No idea. I thought you could tell me.” Harry was pacing. “Something about this whole thing bothers me, Hermione.”

“Really?” she said dryly. “Was it the bloody assassin that showed up while you were securing the place or was there something else?”

Harry shook his head. “Other than that. I’m telling you, there was something familiar about the bloke.”

“Or woman.”

“No.” Harry met her gaze. “It was definitely a man.”

She narrowed her eyes before finally nodding. “All right, so it was a man. I’ll trust your instincts. Why was he familiar?”

“It was his mannerisms, or something.” Harry groaned, frustrated. “I know him somehow.”

“You think he works for us?”

“No...” Harry gnawed his lip. “While many of his techniques were familiar, others definitely weren’t. I think he works for MLE, or did before he went rogue.”

“So we’re looking for a current or ex-MLE agent.” Hermione had the look that Harry remembered from school, the look that said serious research was about to begin.

Harry nodded. “I think so. I assume they’re moving Spungen?”

She nodded. “Already working on it. Once I find out where, I’ll let you know so you can add the extra wards.”

“Right.” Harry hesitated. “So d’you mind if I go home in the meantime?” he finally asked. “Draco and I were planning on an early dinner.”

She smiled. “Are things better between you two?”

Harry shrugged. “We’ll see. I suggested we have dinner together tonight and talk about some things, so, who knows?”

“You go on, then,” she said, waving him off. “I’ll fire-call if I hear anything.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to abandon you during an investigation--”

“Just go home and shag Draco, will you?” was her reply. “You both looked as if you could use it last night. When was the last time you shagged him, anyway?”

“Hermione!”

She grinned. “As I thought. Just...go! Come tomorrow.”

_I hope I’ll be coming tonight, actually,_ Harry thought as he shut the door behind him.

~*~

“Draco?”

There was no answer, so Harry assumed he’d beaten Draco home. Hanging up his cloak, he wandered through the house. He could smell dinner. Apparently Binky had already started cooking.

The Floo sounded and Draco stepped through, looking impeccable, as always.

“How was work?” Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. “I know you won’t believe this, but it was actually a bit exciting today.”

“You had an accounting emergency?” Harry laughed.

Draco rolled his eyes, but a smile was playing about his lips. “You could say that. How was your day?”

“Oh, you know,” Harry replied. “Research is all well and good, but it would be nice to get out every once in a while.”

“Mmm.” Draco pulled his wand out and sent his cloak sailing towards the coatrack. “I know what you mean.”

Something was niggling at Harry and it took a minute for him to realise what it was. His eyes widened when things snapped into place. “Draco,” he said carefully, looking about the room while trying not to be obvious about it, “maybe we should go out to dinner tonight.”

Draco frowned. “What? Why? Binky has dinner ready.”

Harry concentrated for a moment before replying. Yes, he could sense the tracer he’d placed on the assassin and the man was close! “I can’t tell you why, but do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

Harry held up a finger. “I think we have an intruder,” he whispered. “But if you back up into the Floo, you’ll be safe.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Draco had his wand out. “I’m staying here. If there’s an intruder, then I’m defending our home, too.” He placed a hand on Harry’s arm. “Although why you feel this way is beyond me.”

A buzz ran up Harry’s arm. “Oh my God, it’s you!” he cried, pulling his arm away and staring at Draco.

Draco looked at him as if he were insane. “Yes, Harry, it _is_ me,” he said slowly. “I’m your husband and I live here, remember? Who else would it be?”

“No, I mean _you’re_ the one who tried to break into the house in the woods and kill that man.” Harry narrowed his eyes. “I put a tracer on you!”

“Tracer?” But Draco’s eyes had narrowed, too, and he had stepped back into what looked to Harry to be a defensive pose. “What tracer?”

Harry licked his lips. “I happened to be placing some wards today and I encountered an assassin.”

“Are you okay?” Draco looked Harry up and down as if checking for damage.

“I’m fine. I’m used to it, after all,” Harry said without thinking.

“Oh?” Draco’s eyebrow had gone up and his gaze had gone cold. “Is that so? I thought you said you were in the office doing research all day today.”

Harry cleared his throat. “I get out occasionally. The life of a wizard is never dull.” He smiled weakly.

“Apparently not.” Draco smiled, the look in his eyes never changing. “So you’re accustomed enough to assassination attempts that as this bloke was trying to kill you, you coolly placed a tracer on him?” He pursed his lips.

“Not just some bloke; it’s on _you_ , Draco.” Harry fingered his wand. “Stop trying to deflect. I can still feel it on you. So tell me, what were you doing in the woods today?”

“Even if I had been in the woods, and I’m not saying I was, what were _you_ doing there?” Draco shot back. “You’ve intimated that you’re just a researcher in the Ministry and now I find out you’re dodging assassination attempts. It seems you’ve been hiding things from _me_ , Harry.”

Harry shook his head. “As you are from me. So apparently it’s time we talk.”

“So talk.” Draco smirked. “I’ll wait.”

“You first,” Harry snapped back.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Then it seems we’re stuck,” he said slowly, moving back. He turned his wrist, his wand moving in a complicated pattern that made Harry’s eyes widen.

Automatically, Harry raised a standard Unspeakable shield, and the Jelly-Legs Jinx that he belatedly recognised bounced off it.

“An Unspeakable shield,” Draco murmured, inspecting Harry’s protections. “It seems you _have_ been holding out on me.”

“How did you--?” Harry cancelled the shield. “How would you know that? That’s classified.” He pursed his lips. “There’s no reason an accountant should know that.”

“Oh I know all sorts of information,” Draco drawled. “You know how much I love collecting useless tidbits of random knowledge.”

“No, it’s more than that,” Harry mused. “You _knew!_ And I can’t imagine that the Ministry Accounting Department hired you without a background check. Therefore, someone must know you’re an assassin. That means--” He paused. “This must be something you do in an...official capacity.”

Draco shook his head. “And they say Unspeakables are slow... You’ve never heard of the Hit Wizard Corps?”

Harry blinked. “You’re a Hit Wizard? But I had no idea!”

Draco crossed his arms, although Harry noted Draco’s wand was still loosely trained at him. “I know, and I’d hoped to keep it that way. I wasn’t sure you’d ever guess, although now that I’ve discovered you’re an Unspeakable, I have to wonder why it took you so long.”

Harry shook his head. “I can’t believe you’ve been lying to me all this time!”

“I believe we’ve been lying to each other.” Draco smirked. “And here I thought I didn’t have a good Slytherin marriage...”

“Will you stop joking about this?!” Harry growled. “I feel as if I don’t know you! All those times you’ve said you were ‘out of town’, have you been murdering people?”

“Perhaps. What have you been up to all those many times that you’ve told me you had a ‘late meeting’?” Draco shot back. “Don’t take that holier-than-thou tone with me, Harry! I’m the sneaky Slytherin, what else was I going to do? You’re the upstanding Gryffindor, what the hell are you doing in a covert Ministry department?”

“At least I’m not off killing people!” Harry glared at Draco. “I’m saving lives!”

“By protecting criminals like Spungen?” Draco shook his head. “He’s rumoured to have hurt hundreds of Squibs and Muggles with some sort of amulet distribution ring. And here you are guarding him.”

“I’m following reputable orders,” Harry snapped.

“And so am I,” Draco replied. “Maybe if someone had ordered a hit on Voldemort, the world would have been saved a lot of trouble.”

“You’re still primarily a murderer.” Harry blew out a frustrated breath. “And whose orders are you following, anyway?”

“My orders come from the highest echelons of the Ministry,” Draco grated out. “It’s not as if I decide who dies. Other people do that.”

“And how do you know they’re right?”

“How do you know what you’re doing is for the best?” Draco snapped back. “You interrupted me. What if he’d been destined to die?”

“Draco--”

“I’m serious. You people deal with the ultimate mysteries, one slip and you could change the world. What if stopping me was a mistake?”

“We need to know who’s making the amulets,” Harry said. “They contain rare magic. To that end we need Spungen alive to lead us to the mastermind behind this whole thing.”

“Well someone wants him dead.” Draco inspected his fingernails. “And I agree.”

“Who wants him dead?”

Draco shook his head. “Even if I knew, I would hardly tell _you_ , would I? We’re in rival departments, Harry.”

“But we’re married!”

Draco shrugged. “Married people can be rivals. I must insist on one thing, though.”

“What’s that?”

“You have got to teach me that invisibility spell you were using.” Draco smiled at Harry’s confused look. “You know, when we were duelling? That’s a handy charm.”

“I’m not giving you Unspeakable secrets!”

Draco’s face went serious. “And I’m not giving you any of my secrets, either.”

Harry saw red. “Fine. I guess I could hex it out of you.” Harry couldn’t believe that had come out of his mouth, but Draco’s smug face was making him furious.

Raising an eyebrow, Draco smiled. “You can try.”

They stared at each other, neither giving an inch, until, finally, Harry, staring intently into Draco’s eyes, whispered, “ _Legilimens!_ ”

A moment later he was gasping and being driven back by the strongest Occlumency shield he’d ever encountered. “You attacked me!” Draco snarled.

“You won’t tell me what’s going on in that head of yours!” Harry protested, tamping down the feeling that he’d somehow violated Draco.

“Oh? See if you can tell what I’m thinking now!” Draco waved his wand and a candelabra launched itself at Harry’s head. He barely managed to duck out of the way.

“What the fu--?” Eyes widening as he saw a side table heading for him, Harry repelled it and ducked behind a sofa. “Why are we fighting?”

“Because you are an idiot! Stay out of my head!”

Pursing his lips, Harry aimed for where Draco’s voice had come from. “ _Expelliarmus!_ ” A muted pop made him frown.

“Nice try,” Draco said from behind him.

Harry whirled, but it was too late. His wand flew out of his hand and was caught a second later by Draco. Harry countered by wandlessly flinging a bronze statue at Draco. _Accio my wand!_ ” he cried when Draco, distracted, ducked and rolled.

Wand recovered, he was ready for Draco’s next move. Draco, however, was also ready. When Harry next looked, Draco had his wand levelled towards him. They were inches apart, on the floor, both panting, chests heaving.

“Looks like stalemate,” Draco gasped. “Now what?”

Later, Harry couldn’t have said where his next impulse had come from, but just then he was overcome with the urge to snog Draco, an urge which hadn’t hit him in months. Reaching forward, he dragged Draco close and slanted his lips over Draco’s, moaning when Draco’s mobile mouth parted.

Their tongues met, parried, entwined. Harry dimly heard something hit the floor. _Draco’s wand,_ he surmised, deepening the kiss.

Draco didn’t capitulate immediately, of course. He fought, his hands fisting in Harry’s shirt as he hauled him closer, his tongue struggling to assert dominance over Harry’s in its apparent quest to caress every inch of the inside of Harry’s mouth.

When they finally drew apart, Harry had almost forgotten why they’d been fighting. Almost. “Draco we need to talk--”

“Fuck talking,” Draco growled, shifting so that he was straddling Harry. “We’ve done nothing but talk for years and where has it got us?”

Harry groaned. “We weren’t exactly discussing our clandestine jobs,” he muttered.

“You really want to talk now?” Draco whispered. “Seriously? While I’m on top of you?”

Harry emitted a gasping chuckle. “Now that you mention it, no.” He smiled. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered as they both fumbled with buttons and clasps.

“I’ve been right here all the time,” Draco replied, shifting up to shimmy off his trousers and pants.

All the breath left Harry’s lungs as Draco settled once more, his erection sliding against Harry’s. Spreading his hands over the planes of Draco’s sculpted stomach, Harry reacquainted himself with Draco’s body. “You’ve some new scars,” he whispered, fingers tracing the ridges.

Draco nodded, sucking in a breath as Harry stroked his skin. “Got them last year on assignment. Someone threw a charmed knife at me and the wound it caused was a bitch to heal. I usually keep a Glamour over them.”

“What else has happened that I don’t know about?” Harry wondered aloud.

Shrugging, Draco shifted, gasping as Harry’s fingers pried his arse cheeks apart. “I should ask you the same,” he murmured as he writhed on top of Harry. “Clearly we need to get reacquainted.”

“Working on it,” Harry managed. “Do you still like it when I--?” Deliberately, he circled Draco’s nipple with his thumb.

Arching in reaction to Harry’s caress, Draco moaned.

Harry smiled. “Nice to see some things haven’t changed,” he murmured, leaning forward to replace his thumb with his tongue.

“Tease,” Draco panted. “Let’s see if you still like it when I do this.”

Harry gasped as Draco slid down his body, pausing to lick his belly button before matter-of-factly swallowing his prick. “Fuck!” he shouted.

“Mm,” Draco agreed, expertly coaxing Harry to full hardness. Pulling off, he grinned. “That’s the idea.”

“Get up here,” Harry growled, dragging Draco up until he was again straddling him. “Prepare yourself for me.”

“You always did like watching me do that,” Draco purred, reaching behind himself. He held Harry’s gaze as he whispered a Lubrication Spell and began sliding fingers in and out. A moment later he winced.

“All right?” Harry asked, both his hands steadying Draco’s hips.

“Fine.” Draco chewed his lip. “It’s just...been a while.”

“I know.” One of Harry’s hands shifted and he began to help Draco stretch. “Too long.”

“Definitely.” Draco’s eyes fluttered closed as he felt Harry’s finger penetrate him. “Enough,” he gasped.

“Ride me,” Harry whispered. “Please?”

“God, yes.” Draco positioned Harry at his hole, then sank down slowly, groaning as he did so.

Harry moaned in tandem. “Bloody well move, will you?” he gritted out.

“I am,” Draco panted, his eyes half closed as he slid slowly up and down.

“Faster,” Harry urged, thrusting up at every opportunity.

“You’re not any less demanding,” Draco grumbled, although the smirk playing about his lips belied his words.

“Right, that’s it,” Harry muttered, and before Draco could react, Harry shifted his hips, rolled Draco onto his back and began fucking him with fast, deep strokes.

Draco, his legs bent up to his chest, was canting his hips up to meet Harry’s every thrust. “About time,” he whispered. “Now fuck me.”

Harry’s world narrowed to the feel of Draco beneath him, to the way his arse stretched around his cock, to the tiny, involuntary gasping moans cascading from Draco’s throat. Leaning down, Harry engaged Draco’s lips in an intense snog as he moved in and out, doing his best to make it last as long as possible.

The sting of Draco’s nails digging into his shoulders, however, was the last straw. With a howl, Harry came, shoving deep before trembling through his orgasm. Draco came moments later, his cock spurting between them, his inner muscles coaxing a few more spurts from Harry.

It took Harry a moment to recover, and when he did so his first deliberate action was to roll off Draco and onto the floor. He winced as he ended up on top of a shoe. His eyes flew open. “Ouch.”

“No shit. Could’ve used a Cushioning Charm,” Draco gasped.

“Mm,” Harry replied. Reaching for Draco, he pulled him into his arms. “Or we could’ve used the bedroom.”

“We weren’t really thinking clearly when we started, though,” Draco said, his finger absently twirling around Harry’s nipple.

“Are you thinking more clearly now?” Harry asked.

“A bit.” Draco sniggered. “I suspect more sex would probably help both of us improve our focus, however.”

Harry grinned. “Oh yeah, almost wrecking the house with sex is a much better way of settling arguments, I agree.”

Draco shrugged. “We can always put the house back together. I’ve been wanting to redecorate anyway.” His gaze sharpened. “You do know I won’t change my mind about my assignment, though, yes?”

Harry nodded his head slowly and stared back into Draco’s eyes. “Nor will I.”

Draco slowly smiled. “Then this should be fun,” he predicted.

Harry groaned. Something told him all of his resistance techniques were about to be put to the test.

~*~

Draco’s body was still thrumming pleasantly by the time he limped into work the next morning. Harry’s flushed warmth had almost tempted him to stay in bed, but Draco knew what Pansy would have to say about that. She’d already made clear her opinion of his botched assassination attempt.

“You’re late,” she snapped as he walked in.

“By maybe a second,” Draco replied. “What has your knickers in a twist, anyway?”

“They moved Spungen.”

Draco shrugged. “We’ll find him.”

“How?” Pansy glared at him. “And what’s wrong with you today, anyway? You’re very relaxed for a man who botched his first assassination in years.”

Flopping into a chair, Draco held up two fingers. “Fuck off,” he said without heat.

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that what happened? Potter fucked you into the mattress last night for the first time in ages?”

Draco couldn’t help the sappy smile that crossed his face. “The mattress was involved eventually,” he drawled. “First there was the floor, then the kitchen table, then--”

Pansy held up a hand. “Ugh, enough.” Sighing, she turned back towards her desk and scribbled something on a parchment. “Well this is great. You’ve clearly lost your edge! Maybe I need to send another operative.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Draco muttered from his chair. “I’ve lost nothing, I just need another shot.”

Hands on her hips, Pansy rolled her eyes. “Is that so? You think it’s a coincidence that your skills as an assassin have improved the more frustrated you’ve become?”

“What are you saying?” Draco stared at her. “And how would you know how frustrated I’ve been? I never told you that Harry and I weren’t--”

“Fucking like bunnies?” She rolled her eyes. “Oh please. You’re an open book to me, Draco, you always were. I remember what it was like in school before you bagged Potter. You were always on edge. Personally, I think it’s the frustration that makes you great at what you do.”

“I have lost nothing,” Draco snapped. “I am as effective a Hit Wizard when I’ve been shagged as when I’ve not.”

She opened her mouth to reply to that but was interrupted by the arrival of a memo that flew in through the window. After opening it and scanning the contents, she smiled. “I guess we’ll get to find out, won’t we? We’ve found Spungen’s new location.”

Draco smirked. “Good. Tell me where he is, so I can get this over with.”

“Oh no.” Pansy rolled up the parchment and put it in her robes. She smiled at him. “This time I’m going with you.”

~*~

“Draco was the assassin?” Hermione shrieked.

Harry winced. “As I just said _in confidence_!” he hissed. “I guess that’s out the window now, though. I think there may be a sparrow in Scotland that didn’t hear you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “He’s a Hit Wizard, he works for a rival department, and you’ve only just found out? Harry, you’ve been married to the man for five years. This is not good.”

“I’m aware.” Harry collapsed into a chair. “We...discussed it last night.” He smiled as he recalled the direction their discussions had taken.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “Wait...something happened. You look too happy. Did you--?” His blush was all she needed. “Oh my God, you did! You slept with him!”

“He’s my husband!” Harry snapped back defensively. “I’m allowed to sleep with him. Anyway, I thought you told me to shag him.”

“That was before I knew he was a Hit Wizard,” Hermione muttered.

“Hermione!”

She sighed. “All right, sorry. But you must admit that this is a bad spot you’ve put us in.”

“Me?”

She waved her hand. “The two of you. What are our superiors going to say?”

“The same thing his say, I guess.”

“Oh? And who are his superiors?”

Harry shook his head. “All he would tell me is that he answered only to the ‘highest echelons’ of the Ministry.”

“What?” Hermione frowned. “But so do we. How can that be?”

“Do you think the ‘highest echelons’ are fighting?” Harry joked.

“Maybe he was lying.”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He held up his hand when she started to talk. “Wait, I know what you’re going to say, but I know he was sincere. He truly believes that Spungen needs to die for what he’s doing.”

“You know what this means, don’t you?”

“No, but I just know you’ll tell me,” Harry sighed.

“It means Draco will track Spungen down no matter what. We need to go to the new location and confront him.”

“Who? Spungen?”

She rolled her eyes. “No! Draco.” Grabbing her bag, she said, “Come on, something tells me he’s on his way there already. We need to get there before he does.”

“You’re coming along?”

“Of course I am. _Someone_ will have to talk to Draco.”

“He’s my husband! I can talk to him.”

“Someone who won’t be distracted by his arse,” Hermione snapped.

“Wait,” Harry cried as she handed him the coordinates and Disapparated. “When did you notice Draco’s arse?!”

~*~

Draco wrinkled his nose. “They chose a good hiding place. I would never have come here voluntarily. It smells like cat piss.”

“Breathe through your mouth,” Pansy advised, moving forward carefully. “And shield yourself so the Aurors don’t notice you.”

“I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job, thank you very--”

“Shh!” Pansy held up a hand. “I hear something.”

Draco, now on the defensive, peered into the misty distance from where it looked as if two figures were emerging. “Pans,” he hissed, inclining his chin.

She sighed. “Great. It looks as if we’ve been lured here,” she muttered. “By sodding Gryffindors.”

“Not lured,” Hermione said as she approached. “We just thought your information might lead you here so we could have a discussion.”

“You’re telling us that Spungen isn’t here?” Pansy snapped.

“I’m telling you that he may or may not be here, but either way you’re not getting to him,” Hermione replied, tone cool.

“We’ll see about that. Come on, Draco.”

Draco nodded. “Right.” But he didn’t move, instead choosing to stare at Harry. “Hey, are those new robes? I’ve never seen them.”

Harry smiled. “These are my work robes. I don’t really wear them at home.”

Pansy looked back and forth between them. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” she muttered. “Fine, I suppose we _should_ talk since these two will be useless.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’ve no idea.”

“Oh, I suspect I do.” The women shared a look.

“Not here, though,” Hermione said, looking around the deserted alley. “Too public.”

“Agreed.” Pansy smirked. “We can always meet in a secure location of my choosing--”

“I don’t think so.” Hermione pursed her lips. “I can think of one neutral location, however.”

“Oh?” Pansy narrowed her eyes.

As one, they both turned to look at Harry and Draco, who were still all but caressing each other with their eyes. After a moment, Draco realised Pansy was staring at him. “What?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Come on,” she said, grabbing his arm. “We’re going to your place.”

~*~

Since their home was Unplottable, Harry Apparated Hermione, and Draco Apparated Pansy. They all landed at approximately the same time in the living room, startling Binky, who was still cleaning.

Waving his wand, Harry quickly cleaned up the remnants of the mess they had created the night before after their bout of destructive sex. “Um, have a seat,” he said, ignoring the knowing look Hermione shot at him.

“Master Harry, Master Draco! Binky is not done cleaning!”

It took both Harry and Draco to calm the house-elf, and by the time they managed to persuade her that they were fine, that the house looked fine, and that she wasn’t a bad elf, Hermione and Pansy were already chatting.

“Tea?” Draco offered.

Hermione nodded, settling next to Pansy on a sofa, and Harry, deciding this was going to be a long evening, pulled Binky aside and told her to prepare biscuits and cakes as well as tea. He paused, glancing towards Pansy. He bit his lip. “And bring some Firewhisky, too,” he instructed the elf. “Something tells me we’ll need it.”

“Yes, Master Harry.”

“...can’t tell you exactly where our orders originate,” Hermione was saying, “but they were quite clear. Spungen has to live so we can get to the mastermind behind the amulet scheme.”

“We both work for the same Ministry, though,” Pansy said thoughtfully, “albeit different branches. You’d think someone would _try_ to coordinate these things. Draco could have killed Potter.”

“Or vice versa,” Hermione said, shooting a worried look at Harry. “It makes me wonder--”

“Yes?” Pansy leaned closer. “Wonder what?”

“I hate to seem paranoid.”

Pansy made a rude noise. “Slytherins specialise in paranoia, Granger, especially those of us in the Hit Wizard Corps. In our lives, we’ve been the hunter and the hunted; we’re the first to recognise it when we’re in someone’s sights.”

“And you feel as if you are now?” Harry asked, unconsciously linking fingers with Draco.

“I can’t say for sure,” Pansy sighed. “I’ll admit that Draco’s order was unusually specific. Go to a specific location on a specific day and kill a specific target.”

“Isn’t that how it usually works?” Hermione asked.

“Not to give away any secrets, but there’s usually a bit more involved in our assignments.” Pansy pursed her lips. “We aren’t always told why we’re doing something, but more often than not, we’re provided with a bit of background. More than just a name and a location, anyway. And we’re usually allowed to pick the time and place of the hit.”

“But Draco knew a lot about Spungen,” Harry said. “He knew about the amulet ring and--”

“Actually I only suspected,” Draco said, tone speculative. “And that was only because I did my own research on the topic.” He smiled. “You’re right, Pansy. We usually get a lot more information about our targets, and a lot less direction about the mechanics of the hit. I wonder what they’re hiding?”

Hermione sighed. “I may be able to shed some light on that,” she said, looking troubled. “I’m just not sure I should.”

“I think we’re past that, Granger, don’t you?” Pansy snapped. “This case involves both our departments. We need to share information so we can get to the bottom of this.”

Just then, Binky appeared with tea, cakes, biscuits and even some sandwiches. Harry smiled his thanks at her and raised the bottle of Firewhisky that was on the tray in Pansy’s direction. She smiled.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she said, holding out her teacup.

Once they were all set with refreshments, Hermione took up the thread of the conversation. “I think you’re right, we need to collaborate.” Taking a deep breath, she continued. “This whole amulet story is rather interesting, actually.”

“Oh?” Pansy leaned forward. “What are they supposed to do, anyway, and why is the Department of Mysteries so interested in them?”

“We have department secrets, as I’m sure you can imagine,” Hermione murmured, “but I think I can safely tell you that they are being sold on the black market as a way to open a Squib’s or a Muggle’s magical conduit. As I’m sure I don’t need to tell you, that’s how wizards access their magic.”

Draco whistled. “So Muggles could gain magic? Do these amulets actually work?”

“No. As close as we can tell, what they do is they serve as a _receptacle_ for the magic instead, siphoning it off and storing it in the amulets until they can be recovered and extracted somehow. Usually the Muggle or Squib wakes up with no memory of what happened and missing the amulet.”

“Merlin’s balls,” Pansy breathed. “Someone is collecting the magic for themselves! How did you discover this?”

“One of the other Unspeakables has a daughter who is a Squib.” Hermione sighed. “It was totally by accident, but he went home early one evening only to find her collapsed, the amulet she’d bought earlier that day in Diagon Alley around her neck. It was glowing suspiciously, so he pried it off her, took her to St Mungo’s, and brought the amulet to the Department of Mysteries for further examination.”

“Who knows about this?” Pansy asked.

“Only those of us in the Department who are on the project, the Minister, and certain members of his staff. The Healers at St Mungo’s were Obliviated.” Hermione sighed. “The Aurors on the case have never been informed of all the details.”

Draco nodded. “You said earlier that something was making you wonder, Granger. What is it?”

“Well, wouldn’t it have been awfully convenient if you had killed Harry, or if Harry had killed you?” Hermione said slowly. “I mean think about it. Then TWO Ministry departments would have been in an uproar, there would have been a huge investigation, and who would have been paying attention to the amulet case?”

“You think this whole thing was an attempt on Harry or Draco’s life. Or both.” Pansy’s eyes got a far away look. “That would be...diabolically clever. Unlikely, but clever.” She shook her head. “And I thought Slytherins were paranoid.”

“Not _only_ an attempt on their lives,” Hermione clarified. “But I suspect someone would be happy if that was a by-product.”

“But Draco wouldn’t have actually killed me,” Harry said. “I mean--”

“I’m an assassin, Harry.” Draco sighed. “I _was_ trying to eliminate you since you were preventing me from doing my job. I just couldn’t see you clearly because you were very effectively Disillusioned. The only clue I had of your location were the depressions you made in the grass, which I could barely see. It was enough to give me somewhere to aim, though.”

Harry looked over at Hermione, whose eyes widened. “I’ll have to fix that,” she muttered, jotting a note on a parchment.

“ _You_ created that spell?” Draco asked. He whistled. “Can you teach me? It would be great for--”

“Can we please concentrate here?” Pansy snapped. “We have a problem. Someone in the Ministry, probably in the Minister’s office, is involved in the amulet scam and may even be targeting Draco and Potter.”

“If they want us dead,” Harry added, “it’s only a matter of time before they succeed. I think we all know what we need to do now.”

Pansy raised an eyebrow. “Charge into the Minister’s office like reckless Gryffindors?” she asked.

“What else would you suggest?” Hermione shot back.

“Nothing.” Pansy grinned. “I like the charging in idea, actually.”

As the other three stared at her, she took another sip of her Firewhisky-laced drink and sighed lustily. “Lovely tea. So, shall we plan an assault?”

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Hermione muttered.

Harry grinned. “Why not? Can’t be as hard as breaking into Gringotts, can it?”

“Point.” She chuckled as Pansy and Draco blinked at them. “Long story, no time now. First, I think we need to--”

An explosion rocked the house, sending them all tumbling onto the floor. “What the--?”

“Master Harry! The house! She is being attacked, sir!” Binky was standing at the door, wringing her hands.

“I think we noticed,” Draco deadpanned.

Harry, wand in hand, nodded distractedly at the elf. “Right. Go immediately to the cottage, Binky, and wait for us. Now!”

The elf left with a pop.

“Good advice, I think,” Pansy said, closing her eyes. A moment later she was frowning. “Anti-Apparation wards. Lovely.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “ _Ministry_ Anti-Apparation wards,” she clarified. “Why is the Ministry attacking your home?”

“No idea.” Draco’s eyes met Harry’s. “How did they even find it? It’s Unplottable.”

“I think that’s why we’re not dead.” Pansy smiled as they all swivelled to look at her. “I think someone’s guessing where you live and is carpeting the area with spells designed to draw you out.”

“What about the Muggles?” Harry asked as another rumble rocked the house.

“What about them?” Pansy rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Potter. Why do you _think_ Obliviators exist?”

“They can’t cover this up.”

“Depending on who they are, of course they can.” Hermione pursed her lips. “Good thing I’ve been working on a charm to overcome Anti-Apparation wards, hm?”

“Granger, I take back every bad thing I ever said about you,” Draco said. “Let’s use it and leave.”

“It’s untested--”

“We have no choice.” Pansy waved her wand, just managing to deflect a vase that almost hit Hermione. “They’re getting closer. And it feels as if they have several Hit Wizards I recognise with them.” She raised her eyebrow at Draco, who nodded slowly.

“What?” Harry asked, noticing the look they exchanged.

“I was willing to think that the two of you being assigned to the same criminal was a coincidence, but this?” Pansy shook her head. “No way. Someone does want you dead. Both of you, apparently.”

“Much as I would love to say ‘I told you so’,” Hermione chimed in, “we hardly have time now. We’ll have one shot at this, so hold on and I’ll do the charm then we Apparate to the Ministry, all right?”

“Something tells me you’ll find time to tell us later, however,” Pansy muttered. At Hermione’s glare, she flushed, then frowned. “Wait, you can’t Apparate into the Ministry!”

Harry and Hermione smiled in tandem. “ _We_ can,” Harry said. “Hold on tight, we’re going straight to the Department of Mysteries.” Grabbing Draco’s arm, he said, “I’ll take him.”

Hermione nodded. Clasping Pansy’s arm, she raised her wand. “Don’t let go. This should work, but it’ll also pinpoint our location, so we’ll have to Apparate less than a second after the wards are down or it’ll probably be too late. Ready?”

Without waiting for verbal confirmation, Hermione intoned the chant and executed a complex wand movement. The air went sparkly for a moment and just before they disappeared, Harry could see the walls of his home catch on fire. Closing his eyes, he was enveloped by the squeeze of Apparation.

~*~

“They burnt down my house,” Harry said once they’d landed. “Those bastards fucking well burnt down my house!”

“I suppose it’s a good thing we hadn’t got around to redecorating yet,” Draco growled.

“I’m sorry about the house, Harry, Draco, but we have bigger issues,” Hermione reminded them. “If they were prepared to kill both of you in such an obvious way then this conspiracy must go deeper than we thought. We don’t have time to loiter; we need to get to the Minister immediately.”

“We can’t just walk in there, though,” Pansy said, looking around the room with interest. “They’re sure to be expecting-- Ooh, what’s this?”

“Don’t touch that!” Hermione snapped. “Department of _Mysteries_ , remember?”

“I’ve always wanted to get in here,” Pansy said, looking as if she was itching to touch something, anything. “What about this?”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione began shuffling Pansy towards the door. “Just restrain yourself. Don’t touch _anything_ ,” she instructed.

“Pansy’s right about one thing,” Draco said. “We need to have a plan before we go storming into the Minister’s office. They’ll probably have Aurors guarding him and they may have been in on the attack.”

Harry, pacing, nodded. “Hard to tell, really. I’d like to think it was some rogue element in the Ministry, but they burnt down our house! To cover up an attack that big you’d need a lot of people in high places.”

“Or just one person in a high place,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “What do we really know about this Minister?”

“Other than that he’s not Kingsley, you mean?” Harry muttered.

“Kingsley was entitled to a life,” Hermione said. “And to his credit, he didn’t overstay his welcome as Minister. He only did it for two years. And Argus Nott is popular.”

“He came out of nowhere, though, remember?” Pansy said, tone speculative. “One day no one had ever heard of him and the next it seemed as if everyone knew him. And I thought I knew all the branches of the Nott family.”

“So did I.” Draco drew his wand. “Anyway, as much as I’d love to continue this fascinating chat, I really think we need to get going. The longer we wait, the harder it’s going to be to conceal the fact that we escaped that fire. They’re bound to find out eventually.”

“No one knew _we_ were there, though,” Pansy said. “It shouldn’t be too suspicious if Granger and I go to speak to him since we weren’t the targets of the hit.”

“So Draco and I need to be invisible.” Harry smiled. “I guess I _will_ be teaching you Hermione’s special Imperturbable Charm after all, Draco.”

Draco smirked. “Well, it _was_ only a matter of time,” he murmured, chuckling as Harry smacked his arm.

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Enough foreplay, you two. And perhaps I should conceal myself as well. People aren’t used to me visiting the Minister, after all.”

Hermione looked around the room. “Now, why would I be going to see him?” She paused as she spotted a stack of parchments. “Oh, I think I’ve got it.”

Plan decided, and with Harry, Draco, and Pansy concealed from view, the quartet made their way to the office of the Minister. Fortunately, the lifts were all but deserted, and they got to Level One without incident.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione knocked on the door and prepared to play her role.

“Come in!” Susan Bones, Secretary to the Minister, smiled as Hermione walked in. Her smile faded as she noticed Hermione’s angry expression, however, and the huge pile of parchments she was Levitating behind her. “Hermione? Um, I’m sorry, but he’s not in.”

“Is that so?” Hermione scowled, holding her pose at the door until the others could get inside. “Trust me, I have no problem waiting for him.” Moving over to one of the waiting chairs, she settled, tapping her foot intermittently.

“I don’t know when he’ll be back,” Susan offered, clearly hesitant. Her eyes darted towards the stack of papers hovering to Hermione’s left.

“I’ll still wait,” Hermione snapped.

Just then, the Ministry fire alarm went off, making Susan jump to her feet. “Oh my!”

Hermione didn’t move. “There’s a fire drill today,” she said, inspecting her fingernails. “We did ours last week.”

“Bollocks, I should probably go, then,” Susan mumbled, coming around her desk. “Would you mind--?”

“I’ll stay here and wait until he gets back,” Hermione said. “Trust me, no one will get by.”

Susan smiled. “Thanks!”

The second the door closed, Hermione was up, trying the door to the Minister’s office. “It’s locked, naturally,” she muttered, rummaging for her wand. Before she could get it, however, the lock clicked and the door opened. She sighed. “Show-off.”

“Relax, Granger,” Draco whispered as he slid past. “It’s what I do.”

Hermione relocked the door once they were all inside, reinforcing the wards just to be safe. “We don’t have much time,” she said. “People will begin to notice that a fire drill wasn’t on the schedule today. Susan will be back soon.”

“Won’t she assume you gave up and left?” Pansy asked, cancelling her Invisibility Spell and idly picking up papers on the desk.

“Me?” Hermione laughed. “Not very likely. And don’t do that, it’s probably classified.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “That’s what makes it interesting.” She scanned the rest of the desk but didn’t touch anything else. “I guess we just wait here for him, then?”

Hermione nodded. “What do you think, Harry?” she asked. When there was no answer, she shook her head. “Honestly! Just because you’re invisible doesn’t mean we can’t hear you two snogging.”

There was a pause and then a sulky sounding Harry responded. “You could hear that?”

Pansy sniggered quietly, then stopped. “Granger,” she said in a strange voice, “I think you should see this.”

Sighing, Hermione approached the desk and looked over Pansy’s right shoulder. “What did I tell you about classified informa--?” She paused as something on the parchment caught her attention. “Merlin,” she whispered.

“What is it?” Draco’s voice came from over Pansy’s other shoulder. “What did you find?”

“Unspeakable Granger?” Minister Nott was at the door, looking surprised. Behind him were several Aurors, all with their wands out. “And...Ms. Parkinson. Why are you in my office?” His eyes flicked to his desk. “Snooping through my papers?”

“Minister.” Hermione was moving forward. “Forgive the intrusion, but there’s a situation we need to discuss with you. We apologise for the snooping, but it was necessary.”

Argus Nott stared intently at her for a long moment before nodding and putting up his arm. The Aurors relaxed. “Very well. But please remember in the future that there are channels for this sort of thing.”

“Of course, Minister.” Pansy had dropped the parchment she’d been reading and moved away from the desk. “It’s just--” She paused.

He raised an eyebrow as he moved further into the room and waved the Aurors outside. “Leave us,” he ordered.

“But, sir--” one protested. “We’re your security detail.”

“I’ll be fine.” Nott smiled. “Granger and Parkinson are both members of important Ministry departments. If they need a private word, they can get it.”

The Auror sighed, but acquiesced, and when they were gone, Nott said, “So, what is it that’s brought you both here and made you break so many rules?”

Pansy glanced at Hermione before speaking. “There have been some strange orders coming to our offices lately, Minister. We realise we don’t always know the entire plan, but nonetheless, things have been...odd.”

“You’re correct, you do NOT know the entire plan, no department does.” The Minister speared her with a glance. “And that is the way we like it. That way no one person can compromise a mission.”

Hermione nodded. “Understandable, sir. And yet lately, the orders have been...” She sighed. “For example, we couldn’t help but see one of the directives on your desk. It was a bit shocking.”

“I feel compelled to remind you that reading classified information is a grave offence.” The Minister moved past her.

“It says there that you’ve ordered Potter and Malfoy to be detained, their home attacked. May we ask why?” Pansy burst out.

“A natural question; you work with Malfoy, don’t you?” the Minister asked, walking around his desk to sit down. “It’s understandable that you should be somewhat...protective, I suppose.” He sighed. “There are some questions that Potter and Malfoy need to answer, the whole amulet case, for example. There is evidence linking them to it. Disturbing evidence.”

“Minister, there’s something weird going on,” Hermione said after sharing another look with Pansy. “We can state categorically that Harry and Draco are not involved in any way with the amulet case, with the exception of being assigned to it officially.”

“They were _both_ assigned to the same case?” The Minister appeared surprised for a moment. “That is a bit...strange, since they work for rival departments. They would be at odds.”

“Our thoughts exactly, sir,” Hermione said.

“Where are they now?” Nott asked, toying with a quill he had extracted from his pocket. “Perhaps I need to speak with them directly about this.”

“We can get them here very quickly if necessary,” Pansy said with a straight face. “I keep close tabs on Draco, anyway.”

“That might be for the best,” the Minister said thoughtfully. “Sometimes these things can get blown out of proportion. Have you spoken with anyone else about this?”

“No.” Hermione bit her lip. “Do you think we should?”

“No, no. Not at all. This sort of thing is best handled within the department, don’t you think? No need to involve outside parties.”

“Although, if there’s some sort of a leak from the inside, then maybe we need outside reinforcements,” Pansy said.

“Like who?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe we could contact some of the other magical councils for help, see what they know. The centaurs have been known to be of assistance--”

“Those filthy creatures?” The Minister’s face went bright red. “Absolutely not! Horrible, evil creatures!”

“Sir?” Hermione blinked. “They are our allies.”

“We shall NOT be going to unnatural creatures for help.”

“But why not? If they could do some investigating, or maybe we could ask if they are familiar with the amulets--”

To their shock, the Minister pounded his hand onto the desk. “No! I won’t have it! No out side involvement is necessary. I will have order!”

Hermione drew back with a shiver. “Minister?”

“Shut up.” The Minister smiled at their shocked faces. “Oh, don’t look at me like that,” he cackled. “No one else is going to be involved in this. As for Potter and Malfoy--” This time his smirk was malevolent. “Something tells me you’ll find those troublemakers a bit difficult to locate.”

Pansy’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, sir?”

Minister Nott grinned; it had a maniacal edge to it. “I’m sorry to say that your friends are no longer with us. As you unfortunately already saw from my order, I had them...eliminated earlier today.” As they stood there blinking at him, he stood up, still holding the quill. “Don’t you recognise this?” he asked.

Hermione gasped. “I’ve seen it before. It looks like one that belonged to Umbridge,” she whispered, backing away.

The Minister smiled unpleasantly. “I should have known you would remember, Mudblood,” he sneered. “Yes, it was the precious Blood Quill I used when I taught at Hogwarts. All the blood it collected from those horrible children gave it power. It has proved useful over the years.”

“You taught at Hogwarts?” Pansy asked, hand clenched in a fist. “When was that, sir?”

“Oh, you stupid witches.” Nott’s voice sounded odd, as if someone else was speaking through his vocal chords. “Especially you, Parkinson. You were a part of my Squad. I was sure _you_ would recognise me, despite my being in a different body.”

“Oh my God.” Hermione looked as if a wood plank had hit her in the head. “But Umbridge died; she was killed trying to escape Azkaban!”

Nott smoothed his hands over his robes and _wriggled_. “Stupid Mudblood! You and your traitor friends thought you’d defeated me, didn’t you? A new regime, they said, led by Shacklebolt. Hah! I knew he wouldn’t last; he’s not political enough, not ambitious enough.

“Sending me to Azkaban, locking me up and throwing away the key was the best thing that could have happened to me. When the rumours of a new type of Dark magic, amulets that could siphon off the untapped magic potential of Squibs and Muggles, surfaced, I was ready.” He snorted. “I knew that was my way back to power. The fools never took away my trusty quill, they were too stupid to know what it was. So I bided my time, and when the moment was right, I killed a guard, split my soul, and placed it here.” He patted the quill.

“You mean to tell me that you made a--- No, it’s impossible,” Hermione whispered.

Nott smiled. “I learned a lot in that year as chair of the Muggle-born Registration Commission.” He tapped the side of his nose and winked.

“Umbridge?” Hermione’s wand flew into her hand. “You’re actually Dolores Umbridge? You made a Horcrux?”

“It took you long enough, and here I thought you were bright,” Nott mocked, the high-pitched voice sounding incongruous emerging from a man’s throat. “I was sure the great Harry Potter had told you about Horcruxes, and apparently he did, and yet it didn’t stop me from making one. Ah, but he’s dead now, isn’t he? Your Potter and his disgusting blood-traitor of a husband. Imagine a Malfoy, a boy with such a family and such potential marrying a half-blood!”

“So what did you do with the real Nott?” Pansy asked, face blanched white.

Umbridge spun to look at her. “What real Nott?” Umbridge tittered. “Oh, my dear. Thinking really isn’t your forte, is it? There was never an Argus Nott, you imbecile! I took the body of another Azkaban inmate, gave him a name and a history and paid the Notts not to say anything. They at least know their place and could recognise the advantage of having a ‘Nott’ in high places, even if he wasn’t an actual relative.”

“Thinking isn’t your strong suit either if you believe you managed to kill Draco and Harry, you cow,” Pansy snapped.

The look on Umbridge/Nott’s face would have been comical if the situation hadn’t been so tense. “How dare you--?”

“She dares because she knows I killed Voldemort and so I can kill you and any number of foul replacements you try to create,” Harry snapped, his disembodied voice coming from the corner.

A green hex shot towards the Minister’s body. He dodged at the last moment, aiming his wand to the point of origin of the hex, but it was too late. Three hexes caught him and he collapsed, entwined in magical ropes, mouth gagged.

“The only problem now will be convincing people that this is Umbridge,” Pansy said, poking the Minister’s body with her shoe. “This will take a lot of explaining.”

Hermione smiled. “Oh, we’ll be fine, I recorded the entire conversation,” she said, holding up a small box. “An idea I adapted from Muggle technology.”

“Clever,” Pansy admitted. “So, now what?”

“Now we make Harry and Draco stop snogging so we can bring this creature to justice,” Hermione snapped.

There was a pause and then Harry whinged, “Honestly, you have the ears of a bloodhound, Hermione.”

Hermione’s only response was to smile.

~*~

“This whole thing got sorted far more quickly than I anticipated,” Pansy murmured. “I really thought there would be months of inquiries.”

“I think it’s because people were ready for a change,” Hermione whispered back. “Plus, the fact that Umbridge had Imperiused so many to conceal her plan made it easy to unravel once we cancelled the spell and found her stash of amulets.”

“Where are the amulets, anyway?”

Hermione smiled. “The Department of Mysteries, of course. Where else?”

“Of course.” Pansy shifted in her seat to look back at the gathered crowd. “This is a nice turnout. A good show of support.”

Hermione nodded. “Not surprising. A lot of people like Kingsley.”

When Percy shot her a suspicious look, she just smiled at him. He rolled his eyes and went back to listening to Kingsley Shacklebolt make his acceptance speech as the new Minister for Magic. His husband, Severus Snape, stood slightly behind him and to the left, arms crossed, glaring at their section of the gathering. Hermione’s lips twitched.

“I don’t think Snape’s forgiven us yet for pulling Kingsley out of retirement,” Draco leaned forward and murmured.

“I can live with that,” Harry whispered back, amused.

“Will you all be quiet?” Percy snapped. “Some of us want to hear the speech.”

“Yes, dear,” Hermione soothed, patting his thigh. “Sorry, we’re all just...excited.”

“More like restless,” Draco said under his breath. “We still have work to do.”

Hermione nodded. “True. At least Harry is used to hunting Horcruxes, though.”

Harry sighed. “I’d hoped that part of my life was over,” he grumbled.

“Relax, we’ll manage,” Pansy replied. “Now that Kingsley has consolidated our departments, that will make collaboration and research much easier. Trust me, Potter, I can find anything.”

“She’s right.” Draco clasped Harry’s hand. “And maybe Harry and I can go on assignment together,” he said, leering. “Wasn’t there months of camping involved last time?”

Harry shook his head. Tilting his head he looked up at the magical ceiling in the Ministry’s Atrium, smiling. Across the sky, a shooting star was moving. “I guess I got what I wished for, so thanks,” he whispered

“What did you say?” Draco was staring at him and he flushed.

“Nothing. Let’s listen to Kingsley,” he said, leaning close. “Something tells me this is the dawn of a new day.”

~*~

Finis

~*~


End file.
